


The Reunion We Deserve

by KingpinCobblepot (Theonlylucysaxon)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Basically, Chubby Oswald Cobblepot, I mean we all wanted this to happen, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Season 5 Spoilers, Series Finale, Sort of? - Freeform, Thirsty Edward Nygma, batman had to cockblock, coming in pants implied, fix it fic?, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theonlylucysaxon/pseuds/KingpinCobblepot
Summary: Edward and Oswald haven't seen one another in ten years. It's been too long for them both. They need eachother, but one of them makes that first move to remind the both of them of what they're supposed to share. Fix-It fic in terms of, if Batman had not been so rude about ruining their reunion in the car... We all know what was about to happen.





	The Reunion We Deserve

**Author's Note:**

> I mean... It's explained in the tags, but basically we all saw the way they acted in that car and were looking at eachother-- especially Edward. So here is my, decade of waiting, gotta fuck now fic. XD

“Damn it’s good to see you, Oswald.” He was looking at him in a downright wolfish way which had Oswald’s pulse racing. He seemed to mean it, if that look in Ed’s eyes was anything to go by. It was hard to miss the way he looked at him with such voracity. A desire so strong it was almost frightening for the Penguin, who had so little left to fear in this city but perhaps would always be afraid of this moment. No matter what he could face or had faced, Ed was in his own league entirely. 

He scooted closer and the sound of his suit fabric brushing across the leather interior of the car was enough to make Oswald gasp. It was all so real. His closeness, his voice, his gaze, his--

Hand. 

Suddenly it was on Oswald’s wrist, his lips moving closer to the kingpin’s ear as he whispered low and quiet. “I missed you.” It was quiet, simple, and yet powerful enough to send a sort of tremor through Oswald. Just the tone of his voice, edging so close to seductive and yet still holding that tinge of arrogance. Edward knew he was in control, but after all these years it seemed perhaps he didn’t really care. All he wanted was Oswald, and in this moment that just happened to mean Ed was going to have to be the one to reach out and take him as the Penguin was sitting a tremble, stammering broken replies softly with uneven breaths and even more uneven heart beats. His soft stomach rose and fell with the force of his effective panting, as the hand which had been so featherlight and tempting against his wrist now wandered up along his arm. 

Ed was so close. Too close almost. His body arched against Oswald’s as he sat very much beside him and his nose was just grazing the side of Oswald’s face. Oswald could feel the smirk as Ed let his lips just trail against the sharp cheekbones, the Riddler had always been so fond of. His free hand rested now against Oswald’s shoulder, gripping it tight. The kisses down Oswald’s jaw stopped as they reached his ear lobe. 

“So much.” His voice had changed into a purr. 

And the hand which had been languidly trailing along Oswald’s forearm was suddenly rolling over the inside of his thigh, Ed’s fingers digging in against the fabric there teasingly as Oswald let out a choked moan. 

“O-ohhh….” He gasped. His eyes which had shut tight with the soft kisses had now flown open and were gaping along with Oswald’s parted lips, as Eds hand began to rub rather insistently. “Ed-Edward…” The kingpin could barely whimper as his fumbling hand reached out to grab Ed’s wrist as he was caressing him. It was too much after too long. How could Ed even begin to understand the way this was moving him. The way this was affecting him. It’s not just about the ten years they spent apart. It isn’t about the tentative hold they had on one another before. It’s all the years before that as well. It’s everything. All their history, all their time, all their relationship and in this moment Oswald is being reduced to a whimpering mass of need and lust in the face of what he has never stopped wanting. 

In the face of Edward Nygma’s desire. 

The hand on his thigh pushes higher as Oswald guides him, pushing him to rub harder. He gently presses over Ed’s hand so the taller man is gripping the bulge which has formed in the wake of his teasing. Ed chuckles quietly and nips at Oswald’s earlobe. “You missed me too, my not so little bird?” He asked in a low and hungry voice. 

Oswald flushes at the ‘not so little’ comment. He knows he’s gained weight. It doesn’t bring him much joy, particularly in light of how well Edward has aged in their time apart. How striking he still remains. Oswald would complain about the unfairness if the beautifully kept and well refined target of such envy wasn’t currently rutting against him. Perhaps another time. Ed must notice the blush though, as he shakes his head softly, one again letting his nose brush against Oswald in a little nuzzle as his hand stops the caresses and moves to begin untucking Oswald’s shirt from his trousers. 

“Ashamed are we?” He asks quietly, in a gentler tone. Only to immediately sink back into his lustful state as that oh so wandering hand brushes up beneath the fabric of Oswald’s shirt and waistcoat to make such a tempting contact with his warm bare skin. “Don’t be.” The words are a growl. A command. As if Ed can use the force of his desire to make Oswald love himself as Edward does. Perhaps not always. But certainly for the last ten years as well as long before. 

“I like it.” Is the simple affirmation Edward offers before the hand moves down from the lovely and pliant flesh of his stomach, down to the zipper on his trousers. For the second between when Ed says the words, and his hand moves, Oswald thinks of how much he loves him. How he should tell him. Stop all of this and just confess here and now that it has always been Edward and will always be Edward. But then his hand moved, and Oswald lost the ability to care about anything more than the sensation of fingertips creeping inside his trousers. God he hadn’t been touched by anyone else in so long. He wouldn’t in prison. It felt wrong. Unfaithful. Even on the lonliest of nights. Besides, no one could ever compare so what was the point? This touch was about so much more than just a touch, it was about the person touching him. 

Not to mention, Ed was so good at this. 

Too good really. 

He hadn’t always been. There had been a time, in the beginning, when they taught one another what they liked. And while Oswald had been happy to understand the idea of how to bring Ed pleasure-- Edward was never happy doing anything if he couldn’t be the best. His touch was light, and pleasant... But maddeningly light. Perhaps they both knew it wouldn’t take much. 

Oswald lay back against the seat, panting, monocle having fallen out and hanging from it’s chain. Both his eyes stare down at Ed’s hand-- as best he can over his stomach. He wished he was laying down. If he was laying down, the weight would shift and he could see properly. He wanted to see. The way Ed’s hand was disappearing into the open window of his trousers, finger dipping below the waistband of his undergarments to brush fingertips against bare skin. Skin that was hot and taut and alive with unadulterated want. It took little movement to free him in such a state of excitement. His length was fully hard, throbbing inside Ed’s fist as the Riddler leaned over to kiss along the roll of fat which formerly would have been the penguin’s neck. He doesn’t care. It’s skin. Oswald’s skin. It smells thickly of his cologne and that smell has been haunting Edward’s dreams for a decade now. The scent that drove him mad in his bed at night as he lay awake in his cell and dreamed of this moment. Of getting to have this. There is no physical change to Oswald that could ever alter who he is. Not to Ed at least. 

And in this particular instant, all Oswald is? Is Ed’s. 

Ed is pumping his fist now. At first they were languorous, slow and unhurried movements of Ed’s flexing hand over Oswald’s urgent arousal. They drew whines and whimpers from the man who once ruled their fair city, and who had vowed to make Gotham his once more. He was whimpering. Begging. 

“P-please… Ed… E-Eddie… Oh please….” He his hips were thrusting weakly up, trying to create speed where there simply wasn’t. It was adorable. Ed had missed this. He might have continued the torture of Oswald hadn’t remembered the magic word. “Ohh… R-riddler…” 

Damn. How could Ed refuse when he asked so prettily?

Oswald’s mind was so clouded with his own desperation, he couldn’t think to do much more than lay there. His hands were gripping at Ed, but in this moment he was too full of building, hazy pleasure to do much about it. One hand balled against his rib cage, having dipped beneath his jacket to ball in the fabric of his shirt. The other was up, in his hair. Holding him close. Not wanting him to escape. Not before Oswald got what he needed. Which sure enough was suddenly there. 

Ed’s hand was moving fast, rough even. His body had shifted to gain better friction and he had tossed one of those beautifully long legs over to drape over Oswald’s knee so that he could easily grind against his hip. It was nothing. Unsatisfying. Undignified. Filthy. But it had been ten long goddamn years and the way Oswald was moaning for him couldn’t be ignored. And his selfish, greedy little bird wasn’t seeming to want to help. He would have to get him back later for this. But right now, he was making all of those noises, his face so pretty in how it contorted with building ecstasy. How could he scold him? How could he stop? 

Not that he would have had time. 

That building ecstasy ebbed and flowed only for a few moments before fully washing over Oswald. It engulfed him. Dragged him back to the days when they could share a bed, a scheme, a home, a life. His voice croaked out a hoarse “Edward!” as his hips bucked up and everything went white with the sensation of elation that overcame his every sense. His nerve endings all over glowed with the spark of rapture. They were back. Ed was back. His climax came in not just a physical sense, but in every sense. The euphoria which overwhelmed the world as he knew it and brought him to a true moment without time or people or this city or his goals… A moment in which all there was, all there ever had been, all which had ever mattered was he and Ed. It overtook him. It set him aflame. And in this moment, Oswald would have let himself be burned to ash and thanked Edward for the sheer honor of the experience. 

And in the aftermath, as both men had reached climaxes-- though Ed found his as frustratingly unsatisfying as he knew it would be, they stayed close to one another. Ed reached up to turn Oswald’s head and press a soft kiss to his lips. The penguin, lazy from his endeavors and his own remarkably earth shattering orgasm, does little more than gently lean into it. He is too thoroughly spent. Ed hums softly as he realizes this and quietly murmurs in that oh so promising voice against Oswald’s soft lips. 

“Just imagine, Oswald… All that came even before a proper kiss. Just imagine what comes next.” They both chuckle softly as they share yet another kiss and another… 

And another.

**Author's Note:**

> The purest porn I have yet written? 
> 
> Why yes, yes it is. XD 
> 
> This was done in one hour promptly, because I just really wanted to write this scene that wouldn't stop playing out in my head. I hope you enjoy. As always, comments and kudos are more than appreciated-- they keep me alive. Give me your validating sustenance please. And thanks so much to everyone who reads. I wouldn't do this stuff if you didn't, and that would suck. So thanks. XD


End file.
